


Prurient

by danithemani



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: BDSM, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Daddy Kink, Heavy BDSM, Hypnotism, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Married Life, Master/Pet, Mild Sexual Content, Obedience, Redguards (Elder Scrolls), Same-Sex Marriage, Sexual Tension, Undead, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danithemani/pseuds/danithemani
Summary: The Dragonborn has recently turned and is reluctant to feed on a living partner, sustaining himself for weeks on potions. But what happens when you run out?(More to be added, don't worry, Stenvar gets boned soon. <3)
Relationships: Altmer Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Stenvar, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Stenvar, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Stenvar
Kudos: 1





	Prurient

"Hus-band, I can not leave."

Danier stood away from the entrance, light barely casting itself on the ground in front of him. His eyes stayed to the cave floor, as they often did in tombs and other places of the dead. Their vows to Mara, _Morwha_ , Danier insisted, had made the undead Nords who filled this place his honored dead as well. _Ra-netu_ is what he called the Dragur who roamed the halls: ancestors who needed their spirits returned, whether it be Sovangarde or the Far Shores. He took the post his blood allotted him fervently; it was one of the few things Stenvar knew better than to leash.

"What are you talking about? We got what we came here for."

The Altmer's feet stood firm in the shadows. He wasn't often indignant and it took Stenvar off guard.

"It is daylight. I will be unable to travel."

Something was different in his voice-- not quite a rasp, but desperation he had not heard before. It stirred something in the older Nord.

"You were fine yesterday."

"I have used my last potion two dawns ago."

"Why didn't you pack more?"

"I did not anticipate to hunt for treasure in this weather, hus-band."

Stenvar sighed. He hadn't thought of that. Danier's vampirism was still fresh and he relied on potions that were hard to brew and impossible to buy outside of the Castle. They were both careful, Danier afraid of what the disease would do if left unchecked. They hadn't planned on the added days, but there was something in this place that spoke to him-- and he was right. A word wall was hidden deep in this crypt and he was eager to see Danier practice.

"We don't have time for this, Danier. I don't want to be stuck in a blizzard. Why don't you just feed? I'm here."

Danier looked up at him, red eyes casting through the darkness.

"I would not ask that of you, hus-band."

The Altmer lowered his gaze again and with it, his voice.

"I would not have you find yourself a thrall."

Stenvar walked back towards him, away from the light and deeper into the cave. The air was colder in the darkness and the ice felt firmer under his feet.

"Well you don't have to do that part. Can't you just, feed?"

"I would not want to hurt you."

"Danier, look at me."

The Altmer lifted his eyes again but held quick onto the hood around his neck. 

"I made it through our wedding night, love, I don't think a bite will do me in."

The Altmer took a step forward. He reached for Stenvar's hand and smiled when their fingers interlocked through gauntlets. Danier's fingers went almost to the other man's wrist.

"You are a silly Nord."

"You won't think me so silly if you get hungry. You're bad enough if Argis is late with breakfast."

"That is a false accusation. You know I am peckish."

Stenvar laughed and Danier furrowed his eyebrows at him.

"Let's not risk it. It's a long road to the nearest hot meal. Or alchemy table."

Stenvar let go of his hand to hassle with the straps on his armor. Thankfully quicksilver wasn't heavy.

"What if I can not stop?"

His eyes were to the floor again. 

"Then I'll stop you."

There was a pause.

"I do not know that this is safe."

"Danier."

"Yes, hus-band."

Danier stood patiently, hands by his sides. His fingers fidgeted nervously, but the rest of his body remained obedient as he watched the Nord undress. Stenvar leaned the armor against the cave wall next to his warhammer and their other belongings.

"I'll let you know, Danier. I trust you."

"I must remove these."

The Altmer unfastened the buckles on his forearms and slid the dragonskin gauntlets from his hands, carefully holding one glove with the other. Neither bare hand touched the armor once it was removed. Danier dropped them at Stenvar's feet before lightly placing his hands on the man's chest.

"Your body is so cold."

Stenvar reached up to pull the hood loose, rattling charms that adorned the end of the other man's braids. 

"We'll be someplace warmer soon. Don't worry about me."

Danier's hands wandered his chest, searching for exposed skin -- down his sides, along the sharp edges of his body and back again. Upon finding nowhere to linger, they crawled to his neck and pulled back the fur-lined tunic to finally expose flesh. Stenvar reached a gauntlet-clad hand out to lift Danier's gaze from the floor. He grabbed his chin and tilted it upwards, forcing Danier's eyes to meet his. Reluctantly, the man returned to rest his vision on the Nord's face.

"I am quite hungry, hus-band. You are wise to be careful in how I am handled."

Stenvar stared into glowing eyes and a sense of dread filled him. The smile that filled his husband's face was toothy and slick. His cheeks were growing gaunt, his otherwise golden brown skin beginning to grey. It seemed that even the whites of his eyes were turning black. He felt suddenly like a deer caught between the jaws of a sabre cat. But he had to remember that this one was tame, collared-- without will to lunge and tear at his devoted. Those eyes still rested in the body of a man who'd rendered himself obedient.

"That's okay, Danier."

It occurred to him that he was cornered. He had been the one to toss his armor to the side, leaving his hands empty with no weapon to defend himself. Fangs dripped, hidden only by a smile inches away from his face. There was no way to reach Nerveshatter or even the dagger in his boot without startling the lamye. Stenvar struggled to tear his own eyes away from the man's face, the room darkening around him. He felt fingers nervously tug at his shirt collar-- but a tug is where they stopped.

"Good boy. Go ahead."

Stenvar felt cold lips press against his forehead before they settled on the crook of his neck. They traced his collarbone, reluctant to go any further. If he had to-- he pushed the thought away as delicate, full lips took in his skin. His collar was soaked with sweat and Danier lapped at the taste, teeth grazing gently. The Altmer's mouth worked to ingratiate itself to the other's beating pulse. Stenvar waited for a bite for what seemed like a century, but it never came. He waited for his edict.

"R-right there, it's okay."

Danier let out a stuttered sigh. The other's breath was like the wind outside the cave, dangerous and cutting. Stenvar shivered, inadvertently pressing his flesh against extended fangs and forcing razor teeth to break skin. The Altmer's tongue followed the few drops that were offered to him, delicately pushing open the wound with the teeth that were already embedded. Blood trickled into his mouth and the fledgling's body tightened, pushing Stenvar further against the wall. He could feel the chill through his armor. Stenvar exhaled, closing his eyes. 

Danier placed a hand gently on his shoulder as the pain began to grow sharper. His other hand pressed the back of the man's palm firmly against the frozen cave wall. Gloves kept the ice from his skin but the pressure from his ring quickly caused an ache. Fangs gnashed deeper into his skin as Danier moved his hand under the Nord's shoulder. He lifted him off the ground, straightening his back and pressing his cheek against Stenvar's. A noise escaped the man's throat that he bit back. Even if it had escaped, he felt words could do nothing now. 

He began to grow colder until his fingertips stung with indifference. The world tunneled to the cold mouth on his neck and the pain it created. The fear he had before bubbled into a begging kind of pleasure, silently pleading with the man to take more. He stretched his neck to let his partner dig in deeper, fingernails scratching at the back of his armor for more pressure. The Altmer's tongue, now warm with the other man's blood, carried with it a sensation he had never felt before. It burned like venom, heat rising to the surface of the open wound, but the heat brought with it wine into his veins.

Too soon, Danier's lips left the wound and danced up Stenvar's neck, gentle and pleading. He felt fangs smear blood across his skin and a tongue followed after the taste, pulling a blush from every inch of skin it passed. It begged to be torn open like the rest, burning from the Altmer's lips. He pressed closer against Stenvar, the dragon horns of the Altmer's armor cuirass only inches away from Stenvar's chin. It was only then he realized he was still being held in the air.

"I do not have the words."

The Altmer kept his eyes closed as he let out a shaky breath.

"Danier-"

On command, the man opened his eyes again and looked up. Stenvar stared back down at him, lips slightly parted. The Nord watched entraced as the Altmer's eyes swirled, his eyes slowly returning to the same spriggan sap green they were before. Gold returned to his dark skin and his expression softened.

"Oh--"

Danier loosened his grip and lowered the man almost a full foot to the floor, the sound of steel boots on ice scraped their ears.

"I did not mean to be so, ah-- hostile."

The Altmer stepped back, but Stenvar kept their fingers intertwined. Danier had blood smeared from his lips to his right cheekbone. His eyes were softer now, but a flush momentarily returned to his face that he had rarely seen even before his transformation.

"You had me with only one hand."

The Nord couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.

"I did not mean to, hus-band, I did not--"

Stenvar tugged Danier closer again, looking up at him. His gaze kept to the floor, flicking up only when Stenvar's hand lifted his chin.

"If I-- I did not mean to scare you."

"You didn't."

Steel-clad fingers traced Danier's blood-soaked lips. He pulled them back, now tinted red, and the Altmer's eyes grew wide. A look of shock and embarrassment painted his face.

"I do not-- I did not mean to harm you, hus-band."

"If I didn't want you to, little one, I'd tell you."

Danier nodded. Stenvar's hand shifted to run through his dark braids, the steel of his gauntlets clattering against the gold filigree. Danier followed his guidance until their foreheads touched. The Nord breathed out, steam rising up and brushing the Altmer's face.

"I wish I could warm you."

Timidly, the Altmer let his lips press against Stenvar's. The Nord pulled them in, licking clean any blood that was left behind. His mouth still carried that same potent softness that it had before, a respite against the eternal winter of the cave. The taste of iron settled against his tongue and he moaned. Danier put his hands on the crook of Stenvar's waist and pressed closer, clenching at the tunic left behind the armor.

"You could always try."

Stenvar reached out to run his other hand along the man's face but stumbled forward, finding himself weaker than he expected. Danier placed his own hand over the neckpiece of his armor, piercing skin and muscle with the bone. His expression stayed stoic, only the suggestion of a smile forming on his lips.

"Danier--"

He watched as the Altmer pulled his hand from the horns embedded into the cuirass, blood leaving his hand from the open wounds. 

"Perhaps you should lay down. Let us find our bed."

Danier guided the man to the pile of furs that covered their bedroll, careful to keep his injured hand close to his own body.

"Your skin is more snow than usual. I have proven myself a glutton."

Stenvar laughed, putting his weight on the side of his body that wasn't bitten.

"Lay down, hus-band. I will take care of you."

"I'm not the only one who's running low. You better take care of that hand. I worked hard on that blood, you know."

"Of course, hus-band."

Golden light left the man's injured palm, knitting flesh back together. The blood that trickled down his palm quickly dried and flaked to the side.

"I didn't know that magic worked on--"

Danier knelt beside the man, a blush painted across his face.

"You must rest."

The Altmer smoothed his coat and ran a hand loosely through his hair. Stenvar smiled, knowing that the other was unaware that blood still painted his face.

"I'm not that winded, really."

"You must at least allow me to heal you. You do not look well."

Danier's words ended in a huff.

"I can think of a better use for your hands, elf."

Danier smiled down at the man and laid a hand on his chest, gently pushing him onto the pile of furs. He leaned over him with an open palm as the wound quickly sealed. Danier's braided hair fell over the man's face, casting a shadow.

"I want it, Danier. I want you to have me."

"You do not mean that, hus-band. Your head is still light."

The Nord groaned when Danier traced his fingertips across his neck, checking for skin that had not mended properly.

"I know what I want."

"You are tempting. But I can not."

Those same fingertips wandered to his chest, running themselves over Stenvar's tunic.

"This isn't really a--"

"I can not, hus-band. I will not argue."

A wave of magic hit the Nord and his shoulders relaxed. Danier pulled the blankets up to the other's chest.

"We will leave when you are well enough."


End file.
